Rough
by The-Fabulous-Person
Summary: He's not allowed to let go like this. Not allowed to put himself into another's hands so freely, willingly. He's in complete darkness, a slave to his nerve endings and surrendering has never felt so unbelievably good.


**Okay so I started watching Doctor Who recently and I have to say, I think I like it even more than I liked Game of Thrones when I started. Doctor who is much more up my alley, plus, holy crap, sexy world-saving aliens in a Narnia box? Me gusta. I wanna be a Whovian really badly, but I don't think only watching 40+episodes, from doctors 1-3, a single episode of 4, a bunch of 10-11 and reading the TARDIS Data Core wikia until my eyes bleed really makes me one quite yet. I'm determined though.**

**This one just sort of… came to me. I really like River and the Doctor and the way they interact, and how sad but lovely their relationship is. So here it is, I hope you guys like it. I hope I'm not making them OOC or anything. I don't think I did.**

**I'M INSECURE ABOUT THIS AND I DON'T NORMALLY FEEL THIS WAY. YOU WHOVIANS KIND OF FRIGHTEN ME.**

**Title: **Rough

**Rating:** NC-17

**Pairing: **11th Doctor, River Song

**Summary**: He likes is a little rough, and she's only too happy to acquiesce. "Handcuffs, River?" "Well they are kind of 'our thing', sweetie."

**Warnings:** Light bondage, light kink, light sadomasochism, gratuitous foreplay, tickling, alien swearing, and a sad attempt at dirty talking dialogue.

* * *

It started out the way these things usually did, so both parties were pleasantly surprised when it suddenly started leading them to this… very different situation.

A little flirting, a dash of innuendo, a couple sly looks, and she's in his lap in the jump chair, tangling her fingers in those thick brown locks while his cup and squeeze her full, round bum. Their teeth clack and nibble and their lips mash together while their tongues battle for dominance. She grins into the kiss as one of his hands slide up over the curve of her ass and disappear beneath her shirt, coming to a rest against her ribs. She squeezes his narrow hips with her thighs and drags him back by his hair so she can nip at the pale column of his throat. As expected, she's rewarded with a hiss and a lusty groan that zings right to her core.

His wayward hand finds her bra and impatiently pushes the fabric up.

River Song gasps and reels back, smiling saucily down at the Doctor as he gulps in much-needed air. "Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren't we Doctor?"

The alien smirks and rolls his hips up against hers while his hand gets busy kneading her breast. "I'd say I'm right where I ought to be." He punctuates this with a brush of his thumb over her nipple.

She laughs that low, throaty laugh that makes his hearts pound and his pants tighten. "I had a much different spot in mind, actually." Those expressive eyebrows of his disappear beneath his fringe as he expects his bold, beautiful wife to suggest something deliciously naughty when she licks her lips and leans forward to murmur in his ear. "Let's move this to your room, sweetie." He doesn't have time to be confused by the very vanilla venue of her choosing, because she drags him up by his lapels and smashes her lips to his once more before she is dragging him away from the console and into the hall. She isn't surprised when he stumbles over his big, ungainly feet on the way down the stairs but she's too impatient to wait for him to gain his balance, because let's face it he'll lose it again on the next step, so she just tightens her grip and drags him along.

When they reach his door he's caught up to her and his feet are firm on the ground again so he grabs her shoulders and spins her around, slamming her back-first against the door. The Doctor pins her there and River can only hold onto him as he grinds playfully against her hip. It's all groping hands and enthusiastic moans and breathy sighs until she fumbles behind her for the handle and together they stumble backward into the room. They break apart because even with his 'superior biology' his head is starting to spin and they need to breathe. She takes advantage of this respite to hook her foot around his ankle and spin them around again so she can toss her husband onto the wide bed and crawl up after him. He's playing cat and mouse with her and is shifting back towards the headboard like he's trying to escape.

He's not: he's grinning like a child with a hundred dollars in a candy shop as she climbs over him, knees on either side of his legs and one hand sliding playfully along the length of his body. He wonders briefly if she knows just how _incredibly sexy_ she is then realizes this is _River Song_ he's talking about, of course she knows, and then she's leaning down…

The Doctor's eyes grow wide when she takes one of the buttons of his shirt into her mouth and skillfully pops it open while her hands push his braces off his shoulders. "How…" He has to swallow thickly before he can find his voice and by this time she's undone two more buttons. "How do you _do_ that?"

"Spoilers." She tells him cheekily, then they're face-to-face again and she's nibbling his jawline. His hands slide up over her lovely thighs, her plump behind, her curvy hips and slide under, smoothing over her stomach up to her breasts again but she catches his hands and interlaces their fingers. The Doctor is too busy kissing his yowzah of a wife to notice that she's pushing his hands up and pinning them to the pillow by his head. Instead, he's focused on the taste of her and the slide of her lips and tongue against his.

The metallic snapping sound he hears above his head makes him jerk away from her in surprise. "What-?"

River grins and kisses his forehead affectionately. "Now you're helpless, and all mine."

Without thinking, without missing a beat, he gives her a crooked smile and says "I always am." And it's silly but as he tilts his head up and to the side to see that she has handcuffed both wrists to the headboard, her stomach clenches and flutters simultaneously and she is struck with maddening love for the strange and beautiful creature she has captive beneath her. When he looks back to her, opening his mouth to make some witty remark, she leans down and this time the kiss is slow and tender. He waits until she straightens up, hands splayed over his chest while she sits on his stomach to speak. "Handcuffs, River?"

She winks. "Well they are kind of 'our thing', sweetie."

"Mmmm I love our thing, and I love a bad, bad girl." Hearing her perpetually clumsy and endearingly awkward Time Lord speak dirty sends a flash of heat to her center and makes her breath a little uneven.

Glad that he'd removed his jacket before she'd found herself in his lap, River reaches up to undo the cuffs of his sleeves so she can roll them down to his elbow. She loves the sight of those pale and thin but strong arms that are only uncovered when he's in serious work mode, and leans forward to kiss one of his palms. The Doctor takes advantage of this position to turn his head into her cleavage, pressing grinning lips to her clothed breasts. When River returns to his stomach, she's slowly undoing the rest of his shirt buttons, running her lips down over his hairless chest and abdominals, scooting back until she's seated on his thighs. Then she pushes the offensive article of clothing that is hiding her husband's body open so he is bared to her.

He's long and gangly and there's only subtle definition in his muscles and he's as white as white gets and he is _so. Damn. Hot._ River leans down and licks a trail from his navel up to his collarbone, making the Doctor pitch back his head and groan. "Bloody_ hell_ woman… you're _killing_ me."

"Been there, done that." And she sets about kissing and suckling on his neck while he lets out a breezy laugh.

"Clever. Very clever River. Well, you're killing me again." He corrects himself. "I think you should let me go, we wouldn't want a repeat."

She bites him none too gently on the nape of his neck and his whole body arches up to meet her. His toes curls, his fists clench and his arms strain against the cuffs.

He likes it rough.

River sits up again and carefully undoes his bowtie. She pulls the fabric free and with it dangling between two fingers drags it teasingly over his chest to circle one of his nipples before slipping it back under his head. "Open your mouth."

He obeys like a good husband and she quickly, efficiently, re-ties the bow tie between his teeth, effectively gagging the Doctor. He waggles his eyebrows suggestively at her and in response she leans down to bite the other side of his neck. The handcuffs rattle and his whole body tenses and now he has a matching mark on either side of his throat that he'll need high collars and a bowtie to hide later. That knowledge makes him pant around the cloth in his mouth and his cock throb painfully in his trousers. The Doctor expects her to give him some sort of relief now but she leans away and lifts her hands to the back of her head so she can brush out her hair before her hands come to her breasts. "Now pay attention, Doctor." His body goes rigid underneath her as River begins unbuttoning the flashy bronze blouse she's wearing.

He's seized with the sudden desire to tell her just how much he loves her fashion sense and forgets about the makeshift gag. Instead of words he sort of babbles, prompting River to lay a finger to his lips and shush him. "Not a sound, love. You'll distract me." When he falls silent she resumes disrobing. It's just a teaser though because she's wearing some damn, flirty little white tank underneath.

He whimpers when she begins to climb off him, looking so pitiful and confused that she leans down to kiss his stomach. "Be still, Time Lord. I'm just slipping into something a little more… comfortable. There's an appalling lack of bare skin in this room." So saying she unfastens the clasp to her trousers so she can shimmy them down her hips. The fabric pools around her feet before she steps out to kick them away. Next goes her tank, thrown onto the bed next to him.

His eyes are blown wide as he drinks in all that creamy skin and the delectable curves and dips of his wife's body. She's down to her heels and her underwear, which is matching and black and lacy and make his pants, if possible, tighten further. River grins and fluffs out her hair again before slipping off his shoes and tossing them into the corner of the room. His socks join the pile but she infuriatingly leaves his trousers on. Oh the exquisite torture, he thinks as she walks back to his head. "Trust me?" She questions with her voice low and husky. The look he gives her in response is full of love and adoration and trust, but with a healthy dose of suspicion and a twinge of fear. Perfect. He nods and, grinning, she picks her tank up to drape over his face.

Instantly the Doctor is surrounded by her scent, buried in her and though he's confused and more than a little worried about what she has planned, he closes his eyes and inhales deeply. She smells like Time and adventure and warmth; she smells like gunpowder and, weirdly, something green. Not flowery, not pine needles, but something between or similar to the two. He likes it, and his toes and fingers wiggle to convey his happiness while he waits for her next move.

River watches this with a smile on her face and moves to his feet. It surprises him and as expected, his foot jerks in her hand but she holds it steady and begins to roll her thumbs against his sole. Baffled by this odd turn of events he flexes his toes again and she begins to massage those. Just when he's relaxing into the foot rub, content but trying to decipher this new game of hers, she tickles her nails down the arch of his foot and over his ankle, up his pants leg. Once again his foot kicks in her grip but she keeps hold and teases her nails further up the inside of his calf before slipping underneath his knee. He's laughing and his back is bowed up towards the ceiling but she refuses to relent until his head thrashes from side to side and he's wheezing around his bowtie. He's trembling and gasping for air again when her hand withdraws from his trousers, and he tenses when she begins the massage of his other foot. He expects her to tickle him again, and she starts too before abruptly setting his foot back down on the bed and stepping away.

After a few breathless seconds, he realizes he can't even hear her anymore and holds his breath to quiet himself down. She remains silent, standing off to the side with a coy smile on her lips while he looks blindly around the room, straining to catch any sign of her. She waits until he's yanking on the handcuffs and tossing his head again before stepping back to the mattress and splaying a hand over his belly. Instantly her husband stills and she can feel him go limp beneath her touch, reassured that she hasn't abandoned him.

_Silly, insecure Time Lord._ She thinks.

River drags her nails lightly over his stomach to his chest and uses one to trace his nipple, making the alien shudder and moan. Smiling at his covered face, she leans down and wraps her lips around the perky bud before biting down.

The Doctor lets out a horse yell and pushes up to meet her. She continues to tongue his nipple until he's shaking again, then steps away from the bed to stand silently, watching. Waiting.

The Doctor doesn't understand what's going on, why she's toying with him this way but he likes it. Once again he realizes this is _River Song_. She's doing it because she can and he thanks any god the might be listening for her and her ways, but his cock is _aching_ and he squirms uncomfortably on the mattress in her absence. She leaves him longer this time because he doesn't let himself get frantic with nonsensical notions of her deserting him. Instead he pictures her roaming the room in her lacy unmentionables, that sexy little Cheshire grin on her face while she plans what to do next with him.

Holy TARDIS of Gallifrey is he aroused. He wants nothing more than to be released so he can rut like a wild animal against his deliriously sensual wife but he knows she's running the show this time and she has something different in mind. He makes a pitiful sound and shakes his head before letting it rest on the side facing where he thinks she might be. His beautiful, sad, powerful, tumultuous, vivacious, _goddess _of a wife. He's so excruciatingly stimulated and desperate for her to touch him right now that he thinks he might give up the rest of his regenerations just for a little relief.

So when she's unexpectedly stroking her sharp little nails from the palm of his hand down to the crease of his elbow, he jerks and whines and digs his heels against the mattress and babbles out garbled pleas from behind the bowtie.

"Shhh." She traces his outer ear, tickles his neck, and moves her hands to his sides.

Oh Rassilon.

It's like he's being electrocuted. His body his writhing and his feet are kicking as she tickles his ribs and belly, and drifts back up his sides, beneath his shirt, into his armpits. His body curves, his head whipsaws back and forth and he screws his face up behind the tank top. Laughing at just how sensitive the Doctor is, River climbs back up to straddle his narrow hips, pinning him to the mattress while her fingers wreak havoc over his torso and arms. After a few minutes of this, she once again abruptly ceases her movements and simply sits there, listening to him gasp and sputter and mumble incoherently. His chest is flushed red and he's covered in a sheen of sweat while his limbs shake uncontrollably.

Beneath her bum his dick is rock-hard. Mercilessly she shifts off it, causing his hips to buck involuntarily up on a whimper of disappointment. "Not so fast," She teases, reaching down to twerk one of his nipples. "We're just getting started." He groans and even though he pushes his chest up towards her, relishing in the sting, he shakes his head weakly, as if he isn't sure how much more he can take from her. This game has left him overheated and breathless and so so _so _overpoweringly horny which is dreadfully unusual: ordinarily he has astonishing self-control. He blames the woman he can't see currently suckling on one nipple while her fingers torment the other. He can feel her damp heat on his stomach and groans. She moves her mouth over to his other nipple and nips it hard before laving over it with her tongue, forced to rise above him as he cries out and drums his feet violently against the mattress and bucks his hips. "Tsk tsk. We'll have to do something about how wiggly you are."

The Doctor is finding it difficult to swallow when she climbs off and exits the room, leaving him blind and bound and _needy_. Instinctively he jerks and shakes his head, sitting up as much as he can manage until finally, _finally_ the shirt slips down onto his chest and he can see again. Of course she chooses that moment to reenter the room, and she quickly hides the things she is carrying before he can sneak a peek. "Doctor, you wicked boy I didn't say you could take that off."

He looks so hot and bothered and so completely helpless. She licks her lips as she walks to the head of the bed to set the things she's brought in on the nightstand out of the range of his vision. He's watching her— her strong, confident, tragic hero, with eyes that are pleading for mercy, for reprieve. Feeling generous, she moves down towards his feet, trailing her hand from his palm down his length until she reaches his groin. Then he's hissing and heaving his head back, wrenching hard on the cuffs when she cups him in a casual manner. He nearly comes right then and there.

River tries to soothe him with words full of love and praise, because she can see the red of skin scraped raw around his wrists and watches as even his _eyes_ shake. She knows that occasionally he craves, even needs pain but she doesn't want him to hurt himself too badly. He's sweating profusely now and his whole body is vibrating with his desperation. When she _finally_ begins to unzip him, the Doctor lets out a strangled sob of relief and eagerly lifts his butt to aide her in removing them, and then his briefs.

His cock springs to attention the moment it is freed from its cloth prison, impressive by human standards and throbbing angrily. River beams and leans down, watching his eyes light up and his teeth clench around his beloved bowtie, expecting her to take him into her mouth but his wife just licks the tip then puffs out her cheeks and blows over it.

His eyes roll back in his head.

Now she walks back to the nightstand, leaving him sobbing with disappointment

"You'd think in all of a thousand years you might learn a little patience, eh?" He huffs impatiently and groggily lifts his head to try and see what she's doing.

When River turns back to his feet, she's carrying two more pairs of cuffs. She watches him closely as apprehension creeps into his expression and for a moment she feels bad for teasing the Doctor so. That moment passes and though she knows he's reluctant (she can see it in his face) the Doctor moves his foot where she points so she can cuff his ankle to the foot of the bed. And, impossibly, he's still looking at her with that unshakeable trust and complete adoration. She does the other foot, so her husband is stretched spread-eagle over the bed.

It's a truly incredible sight: The savior of worlds, the oncoming storm, the last of the Time Lords tied down by her hands. He's her prisoner; she could do whatever she wanted to him right now. One of the most powerful, influential men she knows is bared, almost totally naked, and completely vulnerable before her. It's a powerful, intoxicating feeling.

Her bra clasps in the front, beneath a little black satin bow. "Look here, sweetie." She tells him, even though there's no need because the Doctor's eyes are _glued _to her hands. She pops open the little metal hook and her generous breasts spill out. The Doctor inhales sharply and his figure goes hard. She doesn't stop there, and after pushing the straps off her shoulders and tossing it off to the side, she hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and bends slowly over to push them down her legs. She can almost hear him thinking _yowzah_ when she straightens up and plants a fist on her cocked hip, leering down at him.

It's so stupid and girly of her, but the way he stares at her now, as if she's the only other person in the universe and he simply can't comprehend her magnificence, makes River blush and look down at her feet, suddenly shy. River Song isn't the type of woman to give a flying fuck what anyone, especially her own kind, think about her appearance. It just doesn't matter to her. Still, like everyone else she does have the occasional moment of physical self-criticism: her hips are wide, and she thinks she could lose a pound or two, especially around her ass and tummy. Sometimes she doesn't like her lips, those are wide too, and she thinks maybe her eyes are too small, but when he looks at her that way she feels… beautiful. She always feels sexy, and he's the only one who makes her feel like more than that.

The Doctor is thinking that he'd give anything to touch her right now, to run his hands over her packed little body. She's warm and full and _built_ and he wants to run his tongue up between her breasts, nibble on her fingers and taste her sweet nectar. She's the most beautiful thing in the universe to him, and he's been around to see more than his fair share. He shouts her name behind the blindfold and jerks on all four cuffs, ignoring the pain as he struggles to free himself just so he can tell her that and run his hands over every glorious inch of her form.

She tuts at him and crawls up onto the mattress between his knees. "Careful love, you'll start to bleed." He can't hear her anymore because she wraps a palm around his length and begins to stroke his prick expertly. All he can hear is the rushing of his own blood as he thinks and babbles out loud _Ohthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou—_until he feels her wrap her fingers around the base of his shaft with a light squeeze. Moaning wretchedly the Doctor lets his head fall to the side and his body goes loose and limp as she stems the blood flow to his penis. It's a cruel and dirty trick and he vows to get his revenge on her.

River smiles and leans down to kiss his tip, tasting the salty precum on her lips before crawling off the bed again. He opens his eyes blearily to watch her walk, hips swaying, to his closet. She returns with a scarf and his eyes widen with dismay when she moves to his head and tries to drape it over the top half of his face. He cringes away from her and sends her his most hopeful puppy dog eyes.

Softening, something she only does for her madman, River leans down to brush her lips chastely over his. She kisses his chin, each of his high cheekbones, the tip of his nose, each eyelid and his forehead before pecking each corner of his mouth. It's a sweet and gentle gesture and goes a long way to calming down his overloaded system. "Trust me," She purrs, "I'm the Doctor's wife."

She can see his amusement twinkling in his eyes, even as they narrow and flick back and forth, searching her face. Apparently he's satisfied because he gives her a short nod and lifts his head so she can wrap the fabric around his eyes and blind him again. She sits on his chest and he can feel her shudder at the contact of his heated skin against her damp sex. He in turn lets out a low purring sound and wiggles slightly.

_Snip._

His blood runs cold at the sound of the heavy-duty metal scissors and when his body stills this time it's out of genuine fear. River strokes a hand down the center of his chest, then back up to cup his cheek. "Hold still."

_Snip._

The cold metal brushes against his chest as she begins cutting through his shirt. Knowingly, she pulls the blades away from his skin before his body twitches.

_Snip._

He's puffing around his bowtie, every muscle in his body flexed in an attempt to keep himself still as she slowly cuts in a line up the length of his arm, letting the scissors slide against his sensitive flesh.

It's cold and cruel and absolutely _exquisite_.

He's not allowed to let go like this. Not allowed to put himself into another's hands so freely, willingly. He has rules, ones he follows to the letter and ones he bends and ones that are just for form but this is one he never breaks. Not without due cause. He must be composed, maintained, in full control in every situation. Now he can't even see. He's blind, nearly immobilized, and can't start spouting random factoids or pointless trivia or clever remarks to make himself feel better. She keeps moving around, changing angles, tactics, and pressure to keep him on his toes and prevent that ancient mind of his from being able to anticipate her moves. He's in complete darkness, a slave to his nerve endings as she slides those blades and those sharp, _torturous_ nails over his pale skin. Surrendering has never felt so _unbelievably _good.

His right arm is finally freed and she leans over to kiss the skin around his wrists where bruises are already starting to appear. In another swift spurt of affection she nuzzles her face against his palm and he obligingly forms a cup with his hand, rubbing his thumb against her cheek.

Then she's gone again, snipping away at the other sleeve while he shivers and gently pulls on the cuffs around his ankles. The metal bites into his flesh as the scissors cut away the rest of his sleeve. River experimentally presses their sharp point against his armpit.

He's not even breathing now as she drags them down his side.

It's about the adrenaline rush and the trust. She would never cut him. That's going beyond a step too far, veering right into the prickly thorn bush of sick mindedness. Not even in his darkest of moods does he have a sudden hankering to hurt like that and even though he's instinctively filled with alarm at the sharp point digging into his ribs, he knows she won't do it. He trusts her with his well-being like he trusts so few.

That doesn't do anything to silence the chocked sob of relief when he hears her set the scissors aside.

"Now…" She swoops down to attack his neck with her lips and tongue, relishing in the delicious vibrations of his throat whenever he moans or grunts his pleasure to her. She's an admitted screamer but he isn't exactly the silent type either. Which isn't altogether surprising, especially not with this incarnation. Spread over his torso, her hands slide over his ribs again while she marks up his neck, scratching lightly against him.

His response is, of course, explosive and she enjoys the ways he bucks and grinds up against her in a parody of sex.

Satisfied with that portion of the night's events, River shifts and begins to inch backwards, sliding down his body to kneel between his spread legs. His cock is once more standing at full attention and feeling sympathetic she engulfs the bulbous head in her mouth. He rolls his long, lanky body up so his hips buck up into her mouth but she rises with him to avoid gagging. He falls back onto the mattress with an almighty groan and tugs on the wrist cuffs until his joints pop.

She pushes his hips down and holds him there, watching carefully until he settles down and his arms turn to noodles once again.

There's no blood dripping down his wrist as she worried there might be, so she swallows the first inch or so of his dick again and begins to bob.

Behind the scarf his eyes roll back into his skull before slamming shut.

It's garbled and high-pitched but she's pretty sure he's mumbling "Pleasedon'tstoppleasedon'tstoppleasedon'tstop" over and over again under his breath. That's what it sounds like when she slides her lips further down his shaft with each downward stroke. She pulls off and like a viper bites down lightning-quick on his inner thigh.

The Doctor lets out a thin scream and flexes that leg.

River isn't done, not quite yet. She caresses his legs and hips and his belly as she leaves little crescent-shaped imprints up and down each thigh, lapping at each mark once it's made to soothe the burn.

Once she's had her fill, River sits up to examine him.

He's a truly erotic picture right now. Smiling to herself, she retrieves the camera she has placed on the nightstand.

_Click. Whiir. Click. Whiir._

He supposes he should be just the teensiest bit embarrassed that she's photographing him in this state, but the Doctor can only twitch and roll his hips and slowly shake his head from side to side. He doesn't have the strength to protest when she crawls off him _again_ so she can get a better angle.

"I do love keepsakes. Let's try this…"

She's turned the lights down low but he still cringes when she removes the scarf from his eyes. She snaps a few shots of that pained expression before he blinks his eyes clear so he can watch her stalk around the bed, capturing this moment in time for the long months, maybe years, before she sees him again.

"God, Doctor, you are pretty."

She reaches up to undo the knot in his bowtie. He wiggles his jaw which he realizes now is sore and stiff, while she takes more pictures. "I prefer the term, 'devastatingly handsome' or 'exotic and sexy'."

Since she's close to his head she leans down to nip his fingers. "Don't make me gag you again."

He laughs and smiles blearily up at her. It's a great angle with a great face so she snaps another few pictures before setting the device aside.

The entire atmosphere changes in the room then. His eyes darken with lust when she slithers back onto the bed and straddles his hips, which lift up in his attempt to touch her, to enter her, to relieve this brain-scrambling ache and cool his boiling blood. River grins and pushes him down with both hands on his stomach, hovering just over his tip. "Ah ah ah. You're not in charge here, remember?"

"_Riveeeeeer_." His bottom lip is trembling, not because he's about to cry, even though he just might if she doesn't stop teasing him, but because he's trying to hold in a very long and diverse stream of expletives and pleas in at least eight different languages. His brow is furrowed and his mouth is a pressed into a thin line. He's flushed and slick with perspiration as she rubs her outer lips teasingly against his cock. She wants him to beg but he likes to think he has more dignity than that. "Professor Song, you're being _meeeeean_." He closes his eyes to try to calm himself but it doesn't work and he wants to watch her—wants to see her lush little body and her sly, foxy face so his eyes flash open again and lock onto hers.

Smiling down at him, River reaches beneath herself and grabs onto his shaft, positioning him so she could…

Husband and Wife threw back their heads with twin looks of bliss and identical moans of ecstasy.

"Ahhhh _gribble-splortch aka k fonfiet! Jot jin diggy yorspot vissil!_"

River laughs as he slips into her, right up to the hilt so she is sitting on his waist again. "I think that's illegal in this galaxy, but thanks for the offer."

The Doctor falls back with a strained laugh and rolls his hips up into her again. This time she allows it and he is reward with the sight of her eyes crossing and her mouth falling open in response. "Next time maybe. Oh by the twelve rings of Gammadrin-11, nnngh. I'm going to lose my mind. I think I'm going to become hysterical any minute. Any second now-"

She leans over him, lifting off his shaft while her lips leave a hot, quivering trail of flesh up his torso. "Beg." And she very leisurely sits back down.

She continues this heartless maneuver a few more times. He whimpers and tries to quicken the pace but if he moves then she sits back and refuses to move. She knows exactly what she's doing in denying, teasing, _torturing_ her husband. She's an expert by now and can play him like a master violinist.

So even though it makes him frantic, because he _needs_ friction, the Doctor lays there unmoving and watches her, panting and sighing and tilting his head to the side compliantly when she begins nibbling on the side of his neck. "_River_," He whispers her name like a prayer before she captures his lips with hers, tongue flicking out to part them and slide languorously against his. The kiss is lovely and slow but then she grips his hair tight and deepens it, holding his head down while her mouth ravages his.

"Beg." She commands him.

His voice is cracked and quiet. "Never."

"Alright then." She starts to move like she's going to get off the bed again, sliding nearly all the way off his shaft.

His eyes get huge and the chains of the handcuffs rattle as he tries to grab at her, to prevent her from leaving when he's so close. "No no no no no! Please!" He breaks with panic and frantic hunger etched into his face and desperately pulls at his restraints. "Don't stop, River, god, please-" Even when she slams his shoulders back against the bed and thrusts down onto his dick he's still gibbering. "Beg! I'm begging you, River Song: Don't stop, please. Need you, please. _Please_!"

She uses her grip on his shoulders to keep herself balanced as she rides his cock, forgoing her fancier moves for short, hard strokes. Her breasts bounce and swing into his face with each plunge. For a brief span he's hypnotized by them before he suddenly rears up and takes one of her nipples between his lips.

Her hot, velvety walls clamp around his shaft and she cries out, thrown off her stride by the unexpected move. He bites gently down and traces the tip of his tongue against the dark skin surrounding the stiff bud. At the same time he bucks up against her, nearly throwing his tormentor off balance. She lets out a shocked gasp when he does it, and moans when he does it again. "Oh _Doctor_."

Before she can get her bearings and therefore control of the situation back, he grabs onto the railing and digs his heels into the mattress to gain some leverage and begins thrusting up into her heat.

His movements are jerky and uncoordinated and he's mindlessly plunging away because it feels _so fucking good._

Her face is contorted with pleasure as he fills her. She finds herself reaching for the device that controls the cuffs. She presses the glowing blue button and the moment the magnets in the bracelets release, his arms come up around her and he rolls them right off the bed.

She gets the wind knocked out of her, leaving her breathless with her mind spinning uncontrollably as he drags her legs up over his hips and resumes his thrusting. "River." The fingers of one hand are digging into her waist and will undoubtedly leave a series of dark bruises and his other hand is slapped against the floor next to her head. "_River_."

She throws her arms around his neck and digs her heels into his ass, spurring him on. "Doctor! Oh _sweetie_!" She rakes her nails down his back and loses a hollow shriek of pleasure when he angles _just right_ and the hand on her hip comes up to squeeze her breast_._ "There! Harder!" He obeys, hunching his shoulders as he slams into her, aiming for that delectable bundle of nerves that makes her cling to him and scream his name. His true name. She shouts it at the top of her lungs and her nails leave deep, angry red welts on his shoulder blades as she climaxes. His cock is in a hot, wet vice and she's crushing the life out of him.

She shrieks his name again and he's blinded by a flash of pure white brilliance. The Doctor crashes against her one last time, his face buried in the nape of her neck as he lets out an almighty bellow as he empties himself into her.

When they come too, she's still holding him to her as though her life depends on it and their hearts are thundering against one another with an erratic violence. The Doctor uses the last of his strength to lift his head and touch his forehead to hers, so they're sharing the same strained breath. Finally his arms give out and he lets himself collapse next to her, flopping down onto his side with one arm draped over her chest. They can do nothing more than gasp and pant for a few minutes, reveling in the post-orgasmic bliss.

Then they both start laughing.

"Sorry." He finally wheezes.

River rolls towards him and slings her arm over his waist. "I'm not." She rubs the tip of her nose against the hollow of his throat and snuggles against him, content. "It was wonderful."

"I do try." She chuckles and pinches his butt, causing him to jerk against her with a tired 'hey'.

River tilts her head back to look up at his face, her fatigued expression colored with concern as she remembers tearing at his shoulders mid-climax. "I didn't hurt you very badly, did I?"

He smiles reassuringly and kisses her forehead. "No, it was perfect."

She touches her lips to his, and without considering, even for a moment, blurts out "I love you, _." She flushes red and ducks her head against his chest. How could she say that? She does, she's never been as sincere as she is now, as she always is when she says or thinks it but the utterance of those three simple words always leads to pain when they must part again. The warm floating feeling the sex has given her disappears in a swirl of black depression.

The Doctor smiles sadly down at the top of her head and both hearts ache for this incredible woman he has in his arms. He strokes a few damp curls from her face and cups her chin, making her look up at him. It's another soft, tender kiss that he presses to her lips. "River Song," He murmurs, his expression peaceful and full of adoration. "I love you."

The heartache lessens for both of them, then, as the truth of their words seeps into their brains and settles there. That's what keeps them together through their twisted lives, what drives them to seek one another out whenever they are separated in Time. She slips his other arm under her neck, and moves the other down to hook under her knees. With a grace and strength he rarely grasps the Doctor picks his wife up bridal-style and carries her up to the bed. He sets her down and together they crawl under the covers and drift off to sleep completely tangled around each other.

* * *

It's a few days later and, as is inevitable, she's left him to return to her own time and her students at the university. He still bears the marks of the encounter and carries them with pride, taking time to examine himself in the mirror when there are no pressing matters at hand. She's left him a few of the pictures, which he puts in his journal. On the page he writes the date and one simple word: "Yowzah."

He's sitting in the office of Winston Churchill, a few months after their encounter with the Daleks, drinking tea and laughing at something Churchill has said when he lifts a hand to brush back his fringe.

"Good _god_ man!"

The Doctor jumps and whips around, trying to locate the source of danger. "What, what is it?"

"What has happened to your wrist?"

The Time Lord pauses, confused, and looks down at his arm to see that his sleeve has slipped back to reveal the wide, dark purple bruising surrounding his wrist. He flushes and hastily clears his throat. "Oh, ah, had a little run-in with some Autons on Venus." He quickly lies. "Hazard of the job, you know."

Churchill hums and nods his head, satisfied. He launches into talk of plans and stratagems to use against the Nazi scum while the Doctor lifts his teacup to his lips to hide the smile he can't control.

* * *

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